


Love struck

by orphan_account



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Hand Jobs, M/M, Making Out, Mild Blood, Minor Injuries, university status is only mentioned but i guess it's relevant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 14:51:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10901619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “Still hurts?”Mark nods, feeling Jinyoung’s lips brush over his skin as he does.“Where?” Jinyoung leans back just enough to meet Mark’s gaze. Mark licks his lips and watches as Jinyoung’s eyes track the movement.“Here,” he says, raising a hand to his mouth.





	Love struck

Mark’s been having a really shitty day, so he shouldn’t be surprised when it happens. First, this morning his thesis advisor told him he didn’t have enough data to support his hypothesis, and so he had to scramble to come up with a plan to collect more before the rapidly approaching end of the semester. Then, on his way to class, he got locked in the stairwell and had to call his friend Jackson to come get him. After all that, he just wanted a coffee to make himself feel better, but it looked like the universe was out to get him that day, because he left his goddamn wallet at home.

He’s trudging home from the coffee shop, hardly paying attention to where he’s going, when it hits him. _Literally_. One minute he’s scuffing his feet against the ground, his head down, and the next he’s airborne, tangled in a mess of metal spokes and someone else’s limbs.

Lying dazed on the ground, it takes Mark a moment to figure out what’s happened. It’s only when he feels a handlebar pressing into one cheek, the other mushed into the ground, that he realizes. He’s been hit by a bicycle. Of course he has. That would be just his luck today.

Even though he can’t see them, he can feel the owner of the bike trying to extract themselves from the pile they created. He lies still to make the process easier, listening to their muffled curses as they untangle their legs from his. Finally, the person rights themselves and pulls the bike off of Mark. He coughs. He hadn’t even felt the pedal digging into his side until it was lifted away. In his peripherals, he sees the face of a young man lean over him, his helmet knocked slightly askew on his head.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry,” the young man says, his voice laced with guilt and concern.

Mark rolls over onto his back to say something snarky back, but is shocked into silence. The boy above him is surprisingly attractive. His eyes are the first thing to catch Mark’s attention, dark and expressive. His lips are full and pink, still managing to look luscious despite being drawn into a grimace. A curl of dark hair has escaped his helmet, resting against his forehead. No, he’s not just attractive, he’s gorgeous. Even _with_ the ridiculous helmet on.

Before Mark can formulate any kind of sentence, the boy claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide.

“Oh _shit_ , you’re bleeding.”

Mark can feel a dull pain radiating out on either side of nose towards his eye sockets. “Is it my nose?” he asks, raising a hand to prod at the area. He winces. “It feels like my nose.”

The other boy nods, his face strained. “Yeah. Above your eye too,” he says, gesturing towards his own temple.

Now that he’s mentioned it, Mark’s forehead is definitely throbbing too. He can feel a trickle of blood start to drip over his brow bone. He moves to get up, but has to stop, wincing in pain.

“Ow,” he groans, looking up at the other boy. “It feels like your bike punched me in the ribs.”

Looking stricken, the young man bends to grip at Mark’s biceps, helping him to his feet.

“Shit,” he says again. “Do you think you need to go to a hospital?”

Carefully, Mark takes a mental catalogue of his body. He pretty much hurts all over, but nothing feels bad enough that he’s afraid it’s broken. He shakes his head.

“No, I think I’ll be alright.”

The boy digs a pack of tissues out of the backpack on his back and hands one to Mark. “At least let me patch you up at my place. I live right down the street.” He sighs. “It’s just my luck that I would run someone over with my bike literal feet from my apartment.”

Despite himself, Mark giggles. He regrets it the next second, though, when it sends fingers of pain shooting through his ribs. He winces and dabs at his nose again. The tissue is already more red than white. The other boy hands Mark another one.

“C’mon,” he says, “you probably need ice.”

Surprisingly, the bicycle itself hasn’t sustained any real damage, only needing a good yank to realign the handlebars to the front wheel. The young man climbs on, standing over the frame, and pats the seat behind him.

“You want me to get on the bike that just hit me?” Mark asks.

The other boy shoots him a look, his eyes narrowed.

“Shut up and get on,” he says. “I’m trying to be nice.”

A little shocked, Mark does as he says. As he swings a leg over the bicycle’s seat, the black-haired boy twists to look back at him and offers Mark his hand.

“I’m Jinyoung, by the way.”

“Mark.” He takes Jinyoung’s hand and shakes it.

Jinyoung smiles slightly, his eyes crinkling. “Tuck your feet up so I can pedal, Mark-ssi.”

Once again, Mark obeys, putting his hands on Jinyoung’s waist as he bends his legs into a frog-ish position, awkwardly tucking his toes over the bike’s frame. Jinyoung’s laugh lines deepen as he takes in the brunet’s position, his hand covering a giggle. Mark pushes at his shoulder.

“Yah, don’t laugh,” he grumbles, “I’m still bleeding here.”

Jinyoung giggles again, but turns around and pushes off, standing on the pedals as he cycles down the street. They ride in silence for a minute, Mark’s hands still around his hips, before Jinyoung slows to a stop in front of a well-maintained, if slightly faded-looking, apartment complex. Mark gratefully lowers his legs from where they were starting to cramp and hops off of Jinyoung’s bicycle.

Jinyoung takes a moment to hand Mark another tissue before extracting his bike lock from his backpack and moving to lock up his bike at the rack by the front door. Mark then follows him into the building, pressing the tissue gently to his nose, and gets into the old elevator when the doors slide open. Jinyoung leads him to his door, unlocking it and pushing it open with a gesture for Mark to go first. And then Mark is in Jinyoung’s apartment.

Somehow, it’s not what he expects. Between Jinyoung’s preparedness with the tissues that he keeps handing Mark and the fact that he was _actually_ wearing a bike helmet (he still is, in fact, he hasn’t taken it off yet), Mark thought that the place would be spartan and sterile, the surfaces gleamingly clean. In reality, though, it looks just like any other 20-something-year-old student’s apartment. There are movie posters on the walls, and the coffee table is strewn with textbooks and papers. A small pile of dirty dishes has been abandoned in the kitchen sink.

“Sorry for the mess,” Jinyoung says, unbuckling the strap of his helmet and hanging it on a peg by the door. Mark just hums and shrugs. “I have my first aid kit in the bathroom.”

Leaving his shoes at the door, Mark follows the dark-haired boy down the hall to the bathroom. He spares a fleeting curious glance at the half-open doorway across the hall, only catching a glimpse of a wooden bedframe before he has to turn away. In the back of his mind, he wonders what Jinyoung’s bedroom looks like. Does he make his bed? Does he have keepsakes lined up on his dresser? Or maybe they’d be on a bookcase.

He’s snapped from his thoughts as Jinyoung nudges him to sit on top of the closed lid of the toilet. The other boy opens the cupboard beneath his sink and pulls out a rather large first-aid kit. Mark can’t help the eyebrow that rises up his forehead.

Jinyoung catches the look as he turns back around.

“It’s good to be prepared,” he says, a bit defensively.

Mark raises the crimson-spotted tissue in his hand. “I’m not complaining.”

Jinyoung seems to accept his words, and takes the tissue from Mark as he bends down to look at Mark's face. Up close, Mark is struck by the beauty of Jinyoung’s liquid brown eyes. They shine under his dark eyebrows, reflecting the light from the bulbs over the mirror as they dart over his face. Mark sucks in a breath as Jinyoung’s fingers brush lightly over the skin just above the corner of his lips, where some of his blood has smeared.

Apparently oblivious to Mark’s reaction, Jinyoung straightens back up and takes a step back.

“Do you want ice for your side?”

Mark nods. As Jinyoung leaves the room, he takes a deep breath. Jinyoung is just trying to be nice and help fix Mark up, it’s not like he means to make Mark weak with his pretty, wide eyes and smooth skin and those completely kissable lips … fuck.

By the time the other boy comes back with a pack of frozen peas, Mark’s only managed to marginally calm himself down. After handing the peas to him, though, Jinyoung gets right back to business. He reaches for an alcohol wipe from the first aid kit and rips it open.

“It looks like the bleeding from your nose has slowed down a lot,” he says, “and your forehead’s almost completely stopped, so that’s good. I’ll start there, okay?”

Mark nods, and Jinyoung leans in again, bringing the wipe to the cut above the brunet’s eyebrow. Mark jolts a bit at the sting, but tries to hold still and not make too much noise. When he’s cleaned the area, Jinyoung tosses the wipe in the trash bin next to the toilet and rips open a bandaid. His fingers gently smooth it onto Mark’s forehead.

In spite of himself, Mark’s eyes flutter shut at the feeling.

Flushing slightly with embarrassment, Mark keeps his eyes shut, even as he feels Jinyoung lean back to open another alcohol wipe.

“I don’t know exactly where your nose got injured, so tell me if anything hurts.” Mark hums in acknowledgement, and feels him lean in slightly before he stops. “This is probably going to smell awful.”

Mark lets out a little giggle. Jinyoung is right, though; when he leans back in the smell of alcohol is overwhelming, making it a little hard for the brunet to breathe. However, Jinyoung works quickly, and though Mark’s nose is a little tender, it doesn’t sting the way that his forehead did.

Jinyoung giggles as he wipes at Mark’s cupid’s bow, making Mark open his eyes. The black-haired boy is covering his mouth with his free hand.

“What?”

“I’m going to let you clean inside your nose,” he says, his laugh bubbling out from behind his fingers. Mark is endeared at the reappearance of Jinyoung’s laugh lines, even as he laughs along.

“Yeah, I’m not quite sure we’re close enough for that yet,” he replies, scrunching up his face. Jinyoung hands him the alcohol wipe that he was using and retrieves a hand mirror from one of the drawers under the sink, holding it in front of Mark’s face so he doesn’t have to let go of the frozen peas he still has pressed against his side.

Mark cleans as efficiently as he can, the inside of his nose a little more tender than the skin Jinyoung was touching. Jinyoung looks up at him when he winces, his beautiful eyes wide with sympathy and concern.

“Okay, good enough,” Mark says when he’s done all that he thinks he can handle.

Jinyoung hums softly. The sound makes Mark’s heart thump painfully.

“Should I get more ice?”

Mark shrugs a little. “It’s not too bad.”

Jinyoung frowns. “Are you sure?”

Mark feels mesmerized by Jinyoung’s lips. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say the other boy is pouting.

“Maybe if you kissed it better,” he hears his own voice saying.

Immediately, he freezes, watching the flush spread across Jinyoung’s face. Oh god, why did he say that? Now Jinyoung is going to think he’s some huge perv, and he’ll never want to see him again, let alone talk to him, and –

And Jinyoung is leaning closer again, his hand reaching out to steady himself on Mark’s shoulder, his eyes half closed as he closes the gap between them.

And then his lips are on Mark’s skin, pressing gently against the side of Mark’s nose. They rest there for the space of a heartbeat before pulling away.

“Better?” Jinyoung asks, his face still close to Mark’s.

Mark feels almost winded, meeting Jinyoung’s gaze. “Still hurts a little,” he breathes.

Jinyoung’s eyes crinkle again as he once more leans in close, pressing his lips to the other side of Mark’s nose. This time, though, he doesn’t move away, his mouth brushing over the bridge of Mark’s nose and past his eyebrow to his forehead. When his lips find the bandaid he put there, they linger, as if he’s unwilling to pull away a second time.

Mark doesn’t want him to, either. The bag of peas falls to the ground as he tugs at Jinyoung’s waist, pulling him to sit across his lap. He feels Jinyoung’s gasp against his temple, the dark-haired boy’s fingers tightening on his shoulder.

“Still hurts?”

Mark nods, feeling Jinyoung’s lips brush over his skin as he does.

“Where?” Jinyoung leans back just enough to meet Mark’s gaze. Mark licks his lips and watches as Jinyoung’s eyes track the movement.

“Here,” he says, raising a hand to his mouth.

“Here?” Jinyoung echoes, his free hand copying Mark’s. He runs his fingers just along the line of the brunet’s bottom lip. Mark shivers. He nods again.

Ducking his head carefully, slowly, Jinyoung presses his lips against Mark’s. It’s sweet, a touch of barely-there pressure, and then it’s gone.

Without thinking, Mark leans up as Jinyoung pulls away, chasing his mouth with his own. Jinyoung makes a soft sound of surprise as their lips meet again. His free hand comes up to cup Mark’s jaw at the same time that Mark moves to grip at the hair at the nape of Jinyoung’s neck. This time, Mark presses in deeply, using the hand at the back of Jinyoung’s head to pull him closer. He tilts his head slightly and opens his mouth under Jinyoung’s lips, using his tongue to encourage the dark-haired boy to do the same.

Jinyoung complies with a soft breath, letting Mark lick over his full bottom lip and into his mouth. His tongue meets Mark’s, sliding wetly against it, as he throws his arms around Mark’s neck. Mark’s hand that’s not in his hair scratches up and down Jinyoung’s spine.

Mark thinks he’s going crazy from the quiet sounds Jinyoung is making into his mouth, losing himself in Jinyoung until the other boy pushes him against cold porcelain, forcefully reminding him that they’re sitting on top of a _toilet seat_. His cheeks heat up as his kisses falter.

Jinyoung pulls back, his eyes half-lidded and his lips bright red. Mark almost wants to dive back in at the sight of the black-haired boy looking so indecent, but his embarrassment holds him locked in place.

“Mark-ssi? What’s wrong?” Jinyoung asks.

Mark is pretty sure his face must look like a tomato by now. He can’t make himself meet Jinyoung’s eyes.

“Um, Jinyoung-ssi … we’re on your toilet.”

Jinyoung just stares at him for a moment, his gaze almost uncomprehending, before he bursts out into uncontrollable laughter. His hand flies up to cover his mouth again, and Mark has to tighten his grip on Jinyoung’s hips to keep him upright.

The other boy’s laughter dies into giggles as he squirms out of Mark’s grip, standing in front of him. Mark feels his chest squeeze painfully, a little terrified of the dark-haired boy’s reaction, for a split second before Jinyoung holds out his hand.

“Let’s go somewhere more comfortable,” he says.

Stunned by the strength of his relief, all Mark can do for a moment is to stare at Jinyoung’s outstretched palm. Slowly, it lowers an inch.

“I – I mean …” Jinyoung falters.

Mark’s gaze shoots up to meet Jinyoung’s now-uncertain eyes. Panicked, he stands as well, forcing Jinyoung to stumble back a step. Mark’s hands dart out to catch at his wrists and stop him from falling into the bathtub.

“N-no!” he stutters. “Sorry, Jinyoung-ssi, I was surprised. I thought you were going to ask me to leave.”

“What?” Jinyoung looks absolutely perplexed.

Mark rubs at the back of his neck. “I totally ruined the mood. You were laughing so hard I kind of thought I made things so awkward that you wanted me to leave.”

“What? No!” Jinyoung uses Mark’s grip on his wrists to pull him closer and wraps his arms around him to rub at his back, half comforting and half sensual. “I was laughing because I had completely forgotten where we were. You’re a really good kisser, Mark-ssi.”

Mark blushes under Jinyoung’s lascivious gaze.

“By the way, what year are you?” the other boy continues.

Mark blinks. “Oh, um, I’m in the second year of my Master’s program.”

“Oh! I just started a Doctorate program this year.” When Jinyoung grins this time, he leaves his face uncovered. Mark is dazzled by his bright smile, filled with even, straight teeth. “I guess that means you’re my hyung, huh?”

Mark blinks. “I guess so, yeah.”

Jinyoung smiles again, pressing in closer. His hand slips lower and lower over Mark’s back until his fingers are tracing over the waistband of his jeans.

“So, hyung, what do you say?” he asks. His fingertips sneak under Mark’s shirt to tease at the skin of his lower back. Mark gasps. “Want to move somewhere more comfortable?”

Mark can only nod. Giggling, Jinyoung slips his hands from Mark’s back to pull him out of the bathroom and across the hall. Apparently _somewhere more comfortable_ means Jinyoung’s bedroom. Mark could pass out.

He can hardly think to remember that when he first got here he had wanted to see what the other boy’s room looked like. He’s got a few movie posters here too, but there’s really not much wall space open to hang things up, not with the multiple bookcases he has lined up around the perimeter of the room. They’re nearly all stuffed to the gills with books, except for the one nearest the door, which still has two shelves empty at the bottom.

Mark doesn’t get the chance to say a single word, though, before the door shuts behind him and Jinyoung is spinning him to press their mouths back together. As their tongues tangle together, Jinyoung nudges him backwards towards his bed. Mark’s calves hit the bedframe, and he tumbles backwards, bouncing slightly as his back hits the mattress. Jinyoung follows, practically pouncing on him as he presses him down into the (neatly-made, Mark notices) bedspread. He nips at Mark’s lower lip, and Mark moans, low in his throat.

Jinyoung groans in response. His lips brush faintly against Mark’s, his breath puffing over Mark’s open mouth, teasing him.

“God, hyung,” Jinyoung breathes. “I could kiss you forever.”

Mark can feel himself flush, flustered. “S-same here.”

Jinyoung giggles and grabs Mark’s hands, guiding them to the tops of his thighs.

“Touch me, hyung.”

Desperately, Mark cranes his neck up to crash their lips back together. His fingers squeeze Jinyoung’s legs through his jeans, thumbs pressing into the fabric just short of the apex of Jinyoung’s thighs. The younger boy jerks and moans into Mark’s mouth, fisting his hands in Mark’s shirt.

Jinyoung separates from Mark’s mouth with a gasp as Mark squeezes a second time, yanking the elder’s shirt up to tangle around his armpits. Before Mark can even think to try to squirm out of the constraining fabric, Jinyoung’s fingernails are scraping down his chest and over his abdomen, making his muscles tense. Mark arches into his hands, his mouth dropping open in a loud moan.

“Fuck, Jinyoung-ah.”

Jinyoung just hums, ducking his head to dip his tongue into the hollow above Mark’s breastbone. Barely pausing to take in Mark’s reaction, he moves to lave over one of his nipples, his hand coming up to roll the other between his fingertips.

Mark writhes under the attention, sparks of pleasure flickering over his skin and settling in his stomach. Frantically, his hands slide under Jinyoung’s sweater, skittering up the planes of his back. He can’t help the little gasp that slips from his lips as Jinyoung detaches from his chest.

Immediately, Jinyoung’s sweater goes flying into the corner of the room, and the other boy reaches again for the hem of Mark’s shirt, tugging insistently. Mark manages to lift his chest enough for Jinyoung to wrestle it over his head, watching the young man throw it over his shoulder as well.

For a moment, Mark just stares at Jinyoung, and Jinyoung stares back, the sounds of their panting breaths filling the room. Then, wrapping his arms around Jinyoung’s waist, he rolls them over so he’s kneeling in between the dark-haired boy’s legs. Jinyoung moans as Mark pushes one of his knees against his crotch.

“Oh shit,” he gasps.

Mark bends to kiss his panting lips as his fingers scrabble at the button of his jeans. When he manages to pop it open, yanking down the zipper after it, Jinyoung gasps again.

“Is this okay?” Mark pants against his lips.

Jinyoung arches his back, pressing his hips into Mark’s hands. “Yes, fuck, I want you.”

At his words, Mark lets himself lose control a little. Curling his fingers into the waistband of both his briefs and his jeans, he pulls them down at the same time, abruptly exposing Jinyoung’s hard cock to the cool air. The other boy’s surprised moan is choked as Mark sits back to toss his clothes off the bed.

“Fuck, hyung, you too,” he says, tugging at Mark’s belt loops. The elder slides off the bed to roughly push his own pants and underwear down his legs, watching in half amusement, half lust as Jinyoung shoves his hand under his mattress and comes back with a bottle of lube and a condom.

Mark scrambles back onto the bed and back between Jinyoung’s legs, running his palms over the black-haired boy’s hips. He can’t believe how worked up he is already, achingly hard and breathing fast. The look Jinyoung is giving him isn’t helping matters, either. The younger’s pupils are blown wide, full of desire, nearly engulfing the beautiful brown of his irises.

“How far do you want to go, Jinyoung-ah?”

“The whole way, hyung.” Jinyoung presses the lube bottle into Mark’s hand. “I want you to fuck me.”

Mark moans. “Are you sure? I-I mean, we only –”

“God, hyung, shut up before I start fingering myself.”

Mark’s mouth snaps shut. Not needing any more encouragement, he fumbles to open the bottle of lube in his hand, coating the fingers of one hand. As an afterthought, he squirts a little more onto the other as well. Jinyoung watches, a little line appearing between his eyebrows.

“Mark-hyung, why are you –”

His words are cut of as Mark very carefully pushes a finger into Jinyoung’s ass, his hand wrapping around his cock at the same time. The slickness of the hand gripping Jinyoung’s shaft lets him start up an easy rhythm right away, trying to distract the younger from the pain of being stretched. Jinyoung moans as Mark slides his finger out a little and pushes it back in, thrusting shallowly. He relaxes faster than Mark expected, and the brunet soon feels confident enough to add a second finger. As he slides it in to join the first, he runs his thumb over the head of Jinyoung’s cock, making the dark-haired boy jerk and let out a high-pitched whine. He’s started to sweat slightly, beads collecting at the hollow of his throat and at his temple. Mark leans down to kiss them from his skin, his hand still working Jinyoung’s shaft and his fingers gently scissoring him open.

Jinyoung pants and arches underneath him, alternating between grinding down onto his fingers in his ass and thrusting up into the hand gripping his cock. When Mark hears his moans take on a desperate edge, he adds a third finger, curling them in search of his prostate.

The brunet knows he’s found it when Jinyoung shudders on a loud moan, his hands clutching at Mark’s waist. Mark massages the spot with his fingertips, going nearly delirious with desire at the sounds Jinyoung makes. The younger’s thighs squeeze reflexively around Mark’s hand.

“A-ah, Mark-hyung,” he pants. “Want your cock in me.”

Mark can’t stop the embarrassingly loud moan that falls from his lips. Jinyoung’s fingers grip at his hips as he removes his fingers from his ass to rip open the condom. He rolls it on swiftly, slicking himself up with the lube that’s left on the hand he was using to jerk Jinyoung off.

Jinyoung lets out a little whimper that he’s sure the younger would deny as he guides his dick to Jinyoung’s ass, letting the head rub against his stretched hole.

“Good?” Mark murmurs.

“Yeah, yeah, good,” Jinyoung answers.

Steadying himself with one hand on Jinyoung’s hip, Mark pushes in slowly, watching Jinyoung’s face for signs of discomfort. The black-haired boy just closes his eyes and moans until Mark bottoms out. To Mark’s surprise, he hardly waits a moment to adjust, circling his hips against the elder’s and letting out a sharp gasp.

“Feels so good, hyung. You feel so good.”

Encouraged, Mark pulls out and slowly presses back in, letting Jinyoung feel every inch of his cock as it drags along his walls. He can’t keep the slow pace for long, though, as Jinyoung clenches and tightens his legs around him. Matching Jinyoung’s moans, he speeds up, getting lost in the delicious friction it creates.

Jinyoung arches against his chest when he hits his prostate again, and Mark does his best to keep the angle. He can feel a familiar heat building in his stomach and knows he’s close to coming.

“Jinyoungie,” he moans, reaching a hand between them to wrap once more around Jinyoung’s cock. Jinyoung writhes beneath him as he matches the pace of his hand to his thrusts, flicking his thumb over the head on every upstroke.

“Oh shit, hyung, I’m gonna come,” he groans.

Mark tries to speed up more, wanting Jinyoung to come first, but he’s so close to the edge that his thrusts are starting to stutter and go sloppy. He slams into Jinyoung one final time, burying himself deep in Jinyoung’s ass as he comes, nearly blacking out from the pleasure. He’s distantly aware of Jinyoung’s wail as he pulses between Mark’s fingers, painting his own stomach and chest white.

Feeling absolutely drained, Mark collapses to Jinyoung’s side, careful not to crush the dark-haired boy beneath him. For a minute, all he can do is pant up at the ceiling, and it seems that Jinyoung is the same. Eventually, the brunet turns his head to look at the boy lying next to him.

“I’ll get up in a second,” he says. “Let me just find my legs first.”

Jinyoung giggles, hand over his mouth, and Mark grins. Maybe his luck isn’t that bad after all.

God, he’s going to be so sore tomorrow.

**Author's Note:**

> Lol "love struck" get it? Cuz Mark got hit by Jinyoung? Like he was "struck"? .... oh never mind
> 
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> I made Mark and Jinyoung be in graduate programs so that they'd be about the same age they are now
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> [my tumblr](http://madlyradiant.tumblr.com)


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